The stars burned out long ago
Tho' we see them in the sky,
And sometimes I think that's all life is,
A candle-flickering of dream.
Something in a stranger's smile
And voices riding on the wind
Tells me this cannot be so
Or at least not wholly true.
And the children are still dancing
Playing games with rope and string,
And childhood looks so wonderful
If we don't hear what they sing.
And the stars they seem so beautiful,
Even lost and dead and gone
That I hope something of us remains
In the ages yet to come.
That when we burn out, we remain
To light some kind of spectral way
And people will remember us
And toast our memory.
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